The Vow
by My Beautiful Ending
Summary: Set after Marionette. Questions still need to be answered, and tensions still need to be resolved. Not everything was revealed in their confrontation at the end of the episode. P/O fluffiness. One shot. Read and review, please!


**AN: First Fringe story! So excited! Anyway. Takes place after Marionette. hope you like it. P/O fluff.**

They were on a case. But that was nothing unusual. Who was he kidding; they were always on a case. It was like the world of paranormal activity never slept.

But anyway.

The team was at Massive Dynamic, checking up on cloning. Yep, cloning. It was at the beginning of the case, right where no one was quite sure just what was going on, so they investigated all avenues. Olivia was acting stiff. But then, that was getting to be the new normal. She was always stiff around him now, ever since he had told her about the other Olivia, and what had happened. Ever since she had told him that she couldn't love him.

That hurt quite a lot, actually.

But. To stay on his vein of thought. He had written the stiffness off to discomfort at his presence.

He should really stop that habit of just attributing a behavior to a certain circumstance. It turned out wrong a lot. The other Olivia, for example. This instance, for another.

It caught his attention when the MD scientist Brandon Fayette came around Olivia's shoulder suddenly without her realizing his presence. She started violently, her fists clenched, and a muscle in her jaw twitched. "I need to make a call," she said a minute or two later, slipping out the Lab door.

He followed.

"What's the matter, Olivia?"

"Nothing," she said, giving him a straight look.

"Okay, you can shut me out, ignore me, pretend I don't exist, you can even hate me, but please, don't lie to me," he told her. She had no idea how much he loathed himself.

"What makes you think I'm lying, and what makes you think something's wrong?" her tone was icy.

"Okay, Fine. I may not be able to tell you apart from your alter. But I can tell when you're angry, afraid, and anxious. I may not know the difference between you, but I know your expressions and body language. And something is wrong." He waited.

"His counterpart? On the other side?" she said suddenly.

Peter nodded, encouraging her.

"He wanted to cut out my brain," she said flatly, in a dead, choking tone. "To study. Forgive me if I can't quite process that right now."

He hadn't heard that before. "Olivia?" he whispered. "You haven't told everything about your time on the other side." It wasn't a question. He worried about her, about the things she was put through over there.

"They made me believe I was her," she said, voice cracking. She didn't look at him. "Some kind of chemicals and memory drugs, whatever. But I've got all her memories up in my head. For the better part of a month, I thought I was her." She paused. "Then I started seeing you."

His world just slowed down dramatically.

"I'd see you in the weirdest places: across the street while on the case, at the corner where I'd eat breakfast, in front of me in line somewhere. That was weird enough; I was seeing 'the secretary's kidnapped son.'." She shook her head. "Then you showed up in the apartment, and you started to talk. Said I had to remember who I was. That I couldn't forget…"

For a second he was afraid she wasn't going to finish.

"That I couldn't forget you," she whispered. "I could have seen anyone from this side, but I saw you."

"I know. You told me," he said softly.

"Do you know that her mother is alive? On that side?" Olivia asked suddenly, turning to face him. "Charlie is, too," she whispered. "She's got friends, family, a great life, a nice guy… But none of that mattered, because I knew I had to get back. For you."

She turned her head away. "And now I know that she found a way to take you, too. She got everything and I…" Her shoulders hunched. "I'm left with nothing," she said in a small voice.

"No you're not," Peter said strongly, turning her around to face him. And he saw what she had been trying to hide –tears. He folded her into his arms, and she didn't resist much. It was like she was made to fit there, and he never wanted to let go. She sobbed into his shoulder, nearly silent, and that made the red-hot knife of guilt bury itself that much deeper into his chest.

"Don't say that, Olivia," Peter said. "You've got Rachel and Ella, and Walter, Astrid, Broyles…and if you'd just give me the chance, you'd have me."

She pulled back from him to look in his eyes, and he knew that without a doubt, this was the woman he fell in love with. Her stubborn determination, her quick wit, her brokenness, and her rare but gorgeous smile…he loved it all. And he'd do anything, anything for a way to get it back.

"Don't let her win," he said. "You're willing to give up this chance just because I was a fool. If you do that you're just giving in," he told her, begged her. "The Olivia I know doesn't give in." Peter took a deep breath. "I don't know what else to do except say I'm sorry, drown in the guilt, and beg your forgiveness," he said. "I'll go right back to square one, right back to the Iraq airport if it means I get another chance."

"You were kind of cocky in Iraq," she mumbled.

He smiled at that. But she was right. He had been cocky.

" –course cloning a human is possible!' Walter said, opening the door. "It's not a question of whether we can do it, it's whether it's morally right or wrong!" he caught sight of them. "Oh, hello Peter, Agent Dunham. Am I interrupting something?"

"Walter, let's go around to give them some space," Astrid said from inside. God bless that woman.

Walter let the door shut, and Peter could hear him saying, "It's high time they made up, Asterisk, and I still say that–" Then there was blessed silence.

"Well," Peter said, looking down at Olivia. "You wanted my father. Now you've got my father, sweetheart." He quoted himself from the first few days of their acquaintance.

She stilled, and then met his eyes. "And call me sweetheart one more time? Yeah. I'd really like that."

There wasn't any sarcasm in her voice.

"Sweetheart," Peter whispered into her blond hair. His voice caught.

Something inside her broke. He could see it in her eyes. The dam that penned up her sorrow let it all out, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly. He returned the embrace with equal force. If he had his way, he'd never let her go. "It was always you," he whispered. "Always, always."

"I forgive you," she whispered.

His heart skipped a beat, and then soared.

"I can't let her take over my life," Olivia said, jutting her chin into the air. "I won't let her. I won't let her take you from me." She gripped his coat, staring at the buttons.

"That's the fighter I know," Peter whispered, running his hand down her cheek. "I'm glad she's back."

She smiled then, and his world lit up. "So am I," she whispered. "I was getting a little sick of self pity."

There was a pause, and they stood in silence.

"So… can we begin again?" he asked finally.

"No need to go back to Iraq," she said, grinning.

"Well, where would you like to start?" he asked, giving her his trademark cocky grin.

"You belong with me," she whispered intently, staring at him with those gorgeous eyes that hid so much depth he could drown in them. And just like the time before, their lips met, but now it meant so much more than before –he was reaffirming himself to her, like a promise or a vow.

He'd never leave her again. She would never be snatched away again. Not if he could help it. She was his and he was hers and that's the way it was.

He pulled away and whispered, "Olivia Dunham, I love you more than anything."

She was crying, but he didn't know why. He wiped the tears away with his thumbs, and she whispered, "I think I've waited two years to hear you say that." Her voice cracked on the last word.

"Would you like me to say it again?" he asked, smiling.

She nodded, and he did.

"I love you, too, Peter," she said.

He thought his heart might hit the moon.

They kissed again.

**FIN**


End file.
